THE EUROPEAN MAGAZINE, AND LONDON REVIEW, FOR OCTOBER, 1807. MEMOIR OF MRS. MATTOCKS. When HALLAM fills the tragic scene, IT Poetry of those Times. T is not one of the least important parts of this work, which may be considered as "an abstract and brief chronicle of the times," that while, in. many instances, it is a memorial of the dead, it also, still more frequently, becomes the record of living characters of exalted merit, and the medium through which the names of those whose professional exertions have shone with pecufiar lustre will, we hope, be transmitted to posterity. Within the pale of this Magazine, we are, therefore, very happy to have enclosed the lady whose portrait embellishes this number, and whose memoir, brief as it is, we trace with pleasure, because we can remember the rise and expansion of her genias; we have seen her in her growth and in her progress, and are happy to add, that her professional powers are still the delight of her admiring auditors. Public approbation, when truly me. rited, is, perhaps, the highest gratifica tion that histrionic exertions can receive, This gratification has attended the lady who is the subject of this sketch from the earliest dawn of her genius down to her present appearance on the stage, where she is ever greeted with the most flattering acclamations of applause. Mrs. MATTOCKS, whose maiden name was ISABELLA HALLAM, was born in Goodman's-fields, in the year 1746. Her uncle, William Hallam, was manager of the theatre in that place, during one, or perhaps more, of the secessions of Mr. Giffard. Her father was also an actor at the same theatre at the time when Mr. GARRICK was there. He is said to have been much admired in low comedy, but was, probably, impelled, by the misfortunes that attended the company after Mr. G. left it, to seek an asylum in América. Dramatic performances were, at that period, a great novelty to our then transatlantic brethren; therefore it is no wonder that,' soon after his arrival, he became manager of the theatres of CHARLESTOWN, NEW YORK, and PRILAHis success in these pursuits is said to have been such as to have enabled him to realize a fortune of 10,000l. the whole of which was lost in the American war; though we think he did not live to experience this misfor DELPHIA. tune. * Miss HALLAM, at the departure of her father, was left under the protection of Mrs. BARRINGTON, her aunt, an actress of very considerable merit at Covent Garden theatre, who procured for her. one of the most finished educations at that time known; of which she seems * «The first dramatic representation in the then colonies of America was performed in Philadelphia, by a small company from England, under the management of Mr. Douglas, father-in-law of Mr. Hallam, of the New York theatre, and of our favourite, Mrs. Mattocks. Some years before the revolu tionary war, Douglas had erected a regular theatre in Philadelphia; but that event drove him to seek his fortune in the West Indian islands.”—Janson's Stranger in America, P. 247. in a very conspicuous manner to have availed herself. The first appearance of Miss HALLAM upon the stage was at so very early a period of her life as the age of four years and a half, in the character of the PARISH GIRL, in the "WHAT D'YE CALL IT, a Tragic Comic Poetical Farce," written by Gay. It happened that the Duchess of Bolton (the famous Polly Peachum) was present at the performance, and, charmed with the infant actress, she sent her five guineas, accompanied with a polite card, expressing her approbation, and intimating a wish that the little Parish Girl of that evening might be as successful through life as she had been.t It has been justly said by Cibber, that there is something so fascinating to the juvenile mind in the characters of heroes and heroines, that it is little to be wondered why all the candidates for theatric fame are anxious to attract the town to the pomp and circumstance of sublime tragedy, and to seize on the tender passions of their audiences, in a part where they are most assailable, by exhibiting themselves in circumstances of exquisite distress, and by a display of their tragic powers giving them a full dose of the doleful, while in situations where, as Murphy observes, "Young gentle folks are apt to fall;" though of this, with respect to Miss Hallam, there was no danger. Prepared by an excellent education, and inspired by a true dramatic genius, she seemed, according to the opinion of the critics, born at once to attract and to fix the attention of the town. Under these happy auspices, and with this promising prospect, at the age of fifteen, she commenced tragic actress, and began, at Covent-garden, her theatrical career, in the arduous part of JULIET. We think her aunt, Mrs. Barrington, performed LADY CAPULET, and, consequently, introduced the young debutante upon the stage. * In ridicule of the tragedies of those times, particularly of Venice Preserved. + The Parish Girl is said to have been the first part in which the celebrated LAVINIA FENTON appeared at the little theatre in the Haymarket. When Miss Hallani undertook it, she is said to have been in figure so diminutive, considering the size of the stage, that a gentleman in the pit exclaimed, "I can hear the little charmer very well, but it is impossible to see her without a meguifying glass." The good nature of a metropolitan audience always secures a favourable reception to a lovely girl in so interesting a situation; but of this indulgence Miss HALLAM had, in the course of the evening, little occasion to avail herself: she performed the difficult part entrusted to her in a manner that would have done credit to the most experienced actress, and, consequently, elicited concomitant applause. The manager was too wise to suffer the genius of this young favourite to lie dormant; he, on the contrary, promoted its expansion in the various classes of the drama, tragic, comic, and operatic; though we must observe, that the two latter seem, by her having resigned the former, to have been, of late years, considered by herself as peculiarly her forte. Perhaps the observation which Dr. Johnson makes with respect to Shakspeare, as a writer, will, in some degree, apply to Mrs. M. as an actress: Her tragedy, excellent as it was, seemed to be ART; her comedy to be NATURE." In the operas, she was, as an actress, so much superior to Miss Brent, that we have always entertained an idea that she was a much better singer, at least when she followed her in the same parts, Polly, Rosetta, Patty,‡ &c. for instances, she was a hundred times more fascinating, as the feelings of the audience, except that part of it termed connoisseurs, who seldom have any, fully evinced. "At different periods, Miss HALLAM performed in Artaxerxes the three important characters, Artaxerxes, Mandane, and Arbaces. In the part of Polly, she was so truly excellent, that Mr. Rich observed, GAY might burst the cerement of his Sepulchre to hear her. Her performance of BERTHA, in the "ROYAL MERCHANT; or, the Beggars' Bush ;" was distinguished by a circumstance which shewed her taste and judgment. The scene of this piece is in Flanders-BERTHA appears as the niece to VANDUNK, the governor of Bruges, a character which she dressed exactly in the style of Rubens's wife (Helena Forman), as she appears in a celebrated picture by that artist. * Beggars' Opera. + Love in a Village.. Maid of the Mill. The Flemish female costume, though common in England during the reigns of the Stuarts, was, at this period, entirely unknown on the English stage; there fore the effect of the revival of the Vandyke dress, as it is termed, by the ladies, who have since adopted it, may be better conceived than it can be described. In the part of DIANA, the Florentine maiden, in the comedy of ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL, we recollect that the simplicity yet peculiar smartness of the dress of Miss HALLAM were loudly applanded on her first entrance; while the excellence of her acting contributed to keep the audience in good humour during the exhibition of a piece which was performed under very trying circumstances, it being the first after the opening of the theatre, which had been shut several days, in order to repair the devastation occasioned by the almost insane outrages of a set of well-dressed SAVAGES, in February, 1763. In the season of 1764 was produced a very singular species of entertainment, intended to ridicule the operatic taste then too prevalent: this w was the English burletta of MIDAS,* in which Miss HALLAM performed the part of NYSA, and, by her exquisite humour, greatly contributed to exalt the piece to that height of celebrity which it afterward so justly attained. Counsellor C― (the father of the present master in chancery, a gentleman whose genius, erudition, and talents, as a lawyer, would have borne him to the very acme of his profession, had not his unfortunate speculations in the new buildings, Deau'syard, Westminster, depressed his spirits and paralysed his exertions) was SO charmed with the performance of Miss H. that he always called her his little Nysa."+ *This was played as a first piece, it being then in three acts: it was afterwards reduced to two, and derived, in our opinions, much advantage from compression. + His son, it appears, followed his example; for when he was a boy at Westminster school, as Mrs. Mattocks, from the intimacy that prevailed in their families, knew that the young gentlemen were much in the habit of making feasts after they had retired to their. rooms for the night, she sent to Master C. a large Norfolk turkey, and an enormons chain of sausages, as a petit soupe, or nocturnal bonne bouche; in consequence of which she, the next day, received from him thefollowing verses, of the merit of which, considering the age of the poet, we think so 1 Written by SC, Esq, when he was THE goddesses once, as the old poets tell us, To make matters easy, Jove always conferr'd On each, as a courier, her favourite bird. When the peacock was seen, with his plu mage erected, A message from Juno was surely expected. When Venus would write to her lover Anchisis, By the dove she despatch'd her celestial ad vices. Nay, Pallas (tho' reckon'd too sober for flirting) also an excellent voice; he played the principal characters in all the Engfish operas, which formed a species of dramatic ainusement that had a prodigious run in those times: he was, therefore, deservedly a favourite of the public. This young couple, the year after their marriage, were engaged at the Liverpool theatre, which was then under the management of Mr. GruSON, an actor whom, in many of his characters, GLO'STER, in King Lear, for instance, we thought excellent; though he was said to retain more of the mainer of the OLD SCHOOL than any one at that time on the stage. * But it was not merely on the stage that he displayed his excellence, his integrity in private life was firmly established, his benevolence, in proportion to his means, was extensive consequently he was extremely Joved and esteemed. Mrs. MATTOCKS, at this time not more than one-and-twenty, was most admirably calculated to become the favourite of a town at once commercial and critical. Animated, elegant, and fascinating, her histrionic and vocal powers were soon drawn forth in tragedy, comedy, opera, and farce. She acted better than any one that had ever been seen there. She sung enchantingly, and, consequently, her success was unbounded. The metropolitan fashions had not, at this period, taken such rapid strides from the centre to the extremities of the island, as they have been used to do in more modern times; therefore the various dresses of Mrs. M. after they had passed the ordeal of the female critics in the theatre, and been there displayed to the admiration of every one, were frequently sent for by the principal ladies of Liverpool, for paraphernalian patterns; and so much was she the object of attraction, that, in her evening waiks, she was surrounded with admirers; so it may easily be believed, that the fame of this London phenomenon soon expand ed, till it reached Manchester, where she was solicited to sing once a week at the concert, which was performed every Thursday evening. For these vocal exertions her agreement was ten guineas per night and a clear benefit. This sum was, by the lower order of the people at Manchester, thought so enormous, at that time, * Perhaps, in this respect, an exception might be might in favour or old FoRNIVAL, of the Bath theatre. for merely singing a few songs, that the market-place which faced the up where she resided used to be crowded with spectators, who waited to gape and stare at "th' woman that did get ten guineas a noight for zinging of zongs." Mr. GIBSON died at Liverpool about the year 1771, very generally lamented. He left his property, in which was included a patent for the theatre, to a lady of the name of BENNET, whom we remember at Covent Garden theatre an actress of soine eminence, in the characters of antiquated Abigails and modern chambermaids, Patch, Foible, Inis, also Lady Loverale, &c. where she was a kind of co-rival to Mrs. Pitt. A new theatre had, before the death of Mr. Gibson, been built at Liver pool, of which it appeared that many speculators wished to purchase the lease and patent, and, in consequence, made various applications to Mrs. BENNET for this purpose; but to these she with great propriety replied, "That all Mr. GIBSON had possessed had been derived from the inhabitants of Liverpool; that to them she felt the highest sense of ob ligation for the ease and comfort which attended her declining years; therefore she would never part with the patent to any one that would not promise to eugage Mrs. MATTOCKS to perform, as she knew that it would be an article in the agreement more acceptable to the town than any other which she had the power to stipulate." In consequence of this determination of Mrs. B. Mr. MATTOCKS and Mr. YOUNGER purchased the patent betwixt them. This accession of her husband to the joint management of the theatre, gave to Mrs. M. her choice and full range of parts; her situation, it is probable, produced a still greater expansion of her genius, for we know that her success was unbounded. But it was not only on the stage that she shone with unri vailed lustre; her strong understanding, her talents, and the elegance of her manners, endeared her to a large circle of polished society, by whom she was equally loved and esteemed. Under these happy auspices, it is natural to imagine that the doors of Fortune's temple were thrown open to her, and that, secure from future storms, she had only to enter, and enjoy the happiness which seemed to court her accept ance. Yet how soon was the cup of prosperity dashed from her lips! The patent, which she had fondly, and in deed rationally, hoped would have been the foundation of her highest prospe-. rity, proved the source of her deepest adversity. She does not know the reason of this. We do! at least we will endeavour to launch a conjecture which, we think, will come near the truth, viz. that Mr. Mattocks was a much better actor than a manager, as we have understood that in the latter character he suffered his good nature to be imposed on, and his credulity to be turned to the advantage of those who understood that part of business far better thau him self. It was impossible that the inha bitants of the town of Liverpool, liberal in their ideas and critical in their judgment, could have taken any dislike to the company enumerated in the note; therefore it is fair to suppose, that their disgust to the theatre arose from a source with which neither her husband nor herself were acquainted. Be this as it may, the ill consequences fixed upon them. In the wreck of the theatre they lost all, even to the tea-spoon and the towel. Mr. M. was, of course, declared a bankrupt; and the severest trial of his life is said to have been that awful moment, when he was compelled to take from his beloved wife her watch and diamonds, which he laid on the table before the commissioners, who unanimously in sisted upon his immediately returning them, to his pocket, and, in every other instance, treated him with that humanity and good breeding which are concomitant to the English mercantile character. Through the whole of this distressful scene, Mrs. M. supported herself with the greatest fortitude; but, as it too frequently happens, where the spirits are highly strained to meet the exigency of circumstances, as soon as her fears for the personal safety of her husband had subsided, a reverse took place which sunk them to despondency. We make this assertion, because, writing to a friend, she says, "What I fondly hoped would have been the foundation of my fortunc has proved its rain: why or wherefore, I cannot tell, but the public was dissatisfied with the company that was brought down; though I think you will wonder at it when I tell you, that, at the same time, they have had Wroughton, Quick, Lee Lewis, Hendersen, Mrs. Crouch, Mrs. S. Kemble, myself, Mr. Kemble, and Mrs. Siddons, (a), and many more, that were deserving of commendation, have acted for a whole season together.' (a) Perhaps such a company as its was never before seen out of the metropolis, and, Indel, very seldom within it. It has been said, that when Mrs. Mattocks had discharged all the expenses attendant upon their distressed situation, they were left with only one half crown in the world. Let us see how our he. roine behaved in these trying circumstances. She shewed the half-crown to her husband, kissed it, and said, My dear George, we are still rich, for this is our own, and no one can take it from us.". * This was, indeed, rising superior to the affliction of the moment; but, alas! it was her last effort; for she went immediately to the rehearsal of the Midnight Hour, and, while she stood on the stage, sickened of a putrid fever, attended with symptoms of the utmost danger, which the physician pronounced to have been engendered solely by the misery and agitation of mind that she had so long endured; though we are happy to add, that, through his care and attention, an amiable woman was restored to her friends and to the public. Mr. AICKIN bad, by this time, succeeded to the management of the theatre at Liverpool, and be appointed Mr. MATTOCKS to conduct the concern; Mrs. MATTOCKS, of course, resumed her situation on that stage; but when the former left that town, and engaged in the management of the Edinburgh theatre, Mr. M. went as his representative, and Mrs. M. we think, returned to London, where, while she was anxiously expecting his arrival, she received the most afflictive news that he was suatched. from her for ever. He died at Edinburgh, where he had been extremely loved and esteemed, as the manner in which his funeral was attended by many of the most respectable of the inhabitants, fully evinced, and where his memory was revered by every one. Having thus, with very little deviation, pursued the thread of our memoir, to the widowhood of the subject of it, we shall close this sketch with the notice of a few circumstances and desultory observations, which would otherwise have broken too much the chain of our narration. Mr. and Mrs. Mattocks, in consequence of some disagreement with Mr. the impending ruin that threatened to Harris, left Covent-garden; but upon involve their affairs, she had the good sense to make an application to be reinstated in a situation to which it has time. Then about to we performed for the first |